Pokemon Isn't Real
by Gizensha
Summary: Well, this is a dark fic. No doubt about that. It's not actually abstract, but it's written in an unusual style. The rating's for language.


Pokemon doesn't belong to me, and I have no intention of making a profit from this fic. Also, the events described in this fic came out of my imagination, and I do like pokemon, whatever this fic suggests. [I'm not actually sure what it suggests.] Enjoy.  
  
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The TV flickers off the episode of Pokemon to static. The static, lasts a few seconds, then suddenly clears, but not to the episode of Pokemon. It clears to a warehouse room, were a boy of about 14 years is stood, looking panicked. The boy has dark hair; his clothes are severely tattered and worn, ripped in places. He looks like he hasn't had a good meal in several days, or a proper wash. His eyes are hardened. He looks to have gone to hell and back. There is a door behind him, which is big, metal, locked, and jammed with junk. A table here, a couple of pieces of metal there. Sounds can be heard in the background. Sounds that are cold, methodical, deliberate. You wonder what they are.  
  
"I hope this thing's on." He glances to the door nervously. "Damn, don't think I've got enough time to check. Anyway. My world has been invaded. They're hunting us down, trying to kill us all. We can't fight them. We don't stand a chance. Our weapons work on the smaller, weaker ones, as long as we catch them off-guard. It wasn't meant to happen like this. Not like this at all." A tear runs down his cheek, he wipes it off. "It started out so innocently. I wished they'd come, I'm sure others did as well. Finally, a small blue. Swirly thing. formed, just in front of me as I was walking along. It looked so beautiful. But I guess the bringer of death and destruction would." He glances back at the door. "They're trying to break in here now. The barricade won't hold up forever. I don't know how much time I've got. When they break in, I'm done for. Betty's out of ammo. I think." He lifts a hand-pistol from under the camera pan, and checks it for bullets. "Yeah. All out. She won't be able to keep me alive no more. You wondering how I got hold of a gun? Simple, it was my fathers. They killed him. He was burnt alive trying to protect me." Another tear rolls down his cheek, which he again, wipes. "I haven't had chance to morn for him yet. I'll never get the chance. Since then, I've gone out of my way to kill as many of them as I could. I couldn't let them get away with it. Not on top of what else I've had to endure.  
  
"They seem so cute on TV, so nice and innocent. They were when they first came through, too. Something happened. Something went wrong. Something went very wrong. I don't know what happened. They all seemed to decide to turn on us at the same time. My father wasn't the first I saw them kill. The first was my best friend. He was killed by a giant beam of energy fired by one of the flying ones. I can't remember the details of it, just the beam of energy hitting him, tearing right through him. It was horrible. I started killing them at that point. Or trying to. Not actively hunting them, though. Like I said, I didn't start to do that until a small fire-one burnt my father alive. It was aimed for me, I think. Then again, it could of just been firing in the general direction of a group of us.. No. It was aimed at me. I saw it in its eyes. I had eye to eye contact when it fired. My father jumped in the way. He shot it while he was protecting me. There was only one attacking the group of us. Damn it! Why the fuck did they start attacking us? What the fucking hell did we do to them!?" He starts to laugh. It's an insane kind of laugh. "Guess I'll find out in hell." He stops laughing, and pauses. "No. I'm already in hell. Earth has become hell. If I'm lucky, I'll go to hell. Eternal torment doesn't seem that bad compared to the past few days." He, yet again, glances back to the door.  
  
"I didn't think it was possible. No one did. Not that they turned on us. Well, I didn't think that was possible.. I didn't think it was possible that they came. I mean, how many times do you wish your favourite show. I know, pathetic isn't it? A fourteen year old with this for there favourite show. Were to be real. For it to be a physical aspect that you can touch. They robbed everything from me. They stripped me down to lower than my emotional core. It happens. If you loose everything and everyone you care about, you'll cease to be you. It's impossible to remain being you after you watch your friends, your family, your belongings, your house, being ripped from you. Especially if things seem to be going well when this is going on. All the time it could clearly be a hell of a lot worse. Heh. It could still be a hell of a lot worse. We're loosing this war. We're loosing it bad. For every one of them we kill, they kill about a thousand of us. But it's clearly going well." He glances towards the door again. "Of course, if this is going well, I'd hate to think what it would be like if things weren't going well. I just can't help thinking that I'm partially responsible for all of this. I'm one of the many who wished all of this on the world.. Well, not this specifically, but for them to come. They weren't fucking meant to act like this. What happened? What went wrong?  
  
"They're not evil. Well, they weren't at first. Something could be controlling them, I suppose. No. Their souls are present. Their souls are in control of their actions. Well, it does make them easier to kill. If they weren't in control of their actions, I'd feel guilty for killing them. As it is, when they die, they make a satisfying squeal of sudden pain. It's ear-piercing. Horrible to here at first. But after a while you realise that they'd just as soon kill you. After a while you realise that if you don't hear that, and you're in their presence for a couple of minutes, you're already dead. Or very 'lucky'. I keep getting 'lucky'. I'd of rather died, but I couldn't kill myself. Not while there was a fighting chance of killing them. Why am I the one presenting this? Why not one of the scientists who bodged all this equipment together to warn people. To warn you? They're all dead, damn it. I'm the last of us alive in this survival complex. I was helping watch the equipment. Hell, this isn't ready. It hasn't been tested. It's test is it's first, and only, real use. There was a sound. The scientists here went to check it out. I heard a scream, and someone told me to secure the door I was behind and to set up the equipment for use. I did as I was told. When I got the door shut, I heard a scream. It was a scream of pain, and a scream for me to make the recording. A scream that told me it was too late for the complex. That it was too late for all of us. A single, wordless, fucking scream." He again looks towards the door. "Damn it, why now? Sure, I've seen a hell of a lot die. Sure, they should of stopped effecting me by now. But they don't. The more I see die, the more each death effects me. It's like I'm dealing with watching the death of each person I've seen the death off, plus one more for every person I see die. Who knows. I may be the last human alive. I don't know any more. I hope we manage to pull this back after I'm gone, but I don't see how. Don't let this happen to your world. Please don't.  
  
"I saw one mother feed my mother to her offspring. I took great pleasure in killing the bitch for that. She didn't see me. Neither did all of her bastard kids. Don't worry. She was one of them, not one of us. You'd of thought that with all the problems in the world, there'd be a lot more individualism when something like this happened. Quite the opposite. It's a great testament to human nature, that when this happened, we banded together. Then again, we had to. In order for anyone to stand any chance of survival, we had to." He looks back at the door, but before turning round, he yells. "JUST FUCKING HURRY UP AND GET THIS OVER WITH! I'M IN HERE. STOP FUCKING MESSING ME AROUND AND GET IT OVER WITH!" He turns back to the camera. "I'm half expecting them to be punishing me. Half expecting them to leave me alive, kill the rest of the human population, then leave me. Alone. Completely by myself. With the only comfort that I will, eventually, die, but without enough courage to do the deed and kill myself. That's why I want them to just get it over with. God I hope this camera's working. I don't want them to end it because I want to die. I want them to end it so that I'm not left with all this pain. Not physical, although that hurts a hell of a lot." He lifts what's left of his shirt back, revealing freshly, not-quite-healed flesh. "But the emotional pain hurts more. I could deal with the physical, but the emotional. It's probably why Betty ran out of bullets, the emotional pain. I've been pummelling an entire round into one of the small ones each time. One'll do it if it's going to go. If not, it'll just destroy the bullets." He looks down at the table. "When that door goes down, I'm coming guys. I just have to finish warning who ever is receiving this transmission. If anyone. If no one is, then I'm completely wasting my time. Hell, who'd believe me anyway." He looks back up. "Please believe me. This isn't phoney, though if I was you and you were here, I'd think it were. I mean, this sort of thing shouldn't be possible. It defies common sense. As such, it might not be possible in your world, but I think they all follow the same laws of physics. If they come through, just kill them on site. Don't wait for them to turn evil. Be on the safe side. Try and destroy the bringers. They all look the same. It's the blue swirly things they come out of. Unmistakeable. I've destroyed a couple. Just a few bullets'ill do it. Doesn't take many. I think if all the bringers are destroyed, non more can form. I hope you guys'ill find out.  
  
"This is getting frustrating. They're going to damn methodical. If it was a human army, they'd of gotten through the doors by now. They'd of done it much faster. But they seem to be going deliberately slow. It's like they're letting me send this transmission. It's as if they want me too. Could it be that some of there niceness is still there, slowing them down. Maybe coming here did this to them. They absorbed the evil from the world, and turned it against it. They do live in an almost idealistic world, after all. If only they could just get it over with. Maybe they're just being sadistic about it. Maybe they want me to suffer. I don't know any more. All I know is I'm going to die, the human race is all-but extinct, and I don't want it to happen to you guys like it did to us. At least if you know what to expect, you'll have a fighting chance of destroying the bringers. If you can do that, I think you'll be fine. I hope you'll be fine. I don't want you to suffer the same fate we did.. Actually. This is a good thing. In order for one to survive, another must die, right? Maybe in order for your world. Assuming this thing's transmitting. God, I hope it's working. To survive, mine must die. Maybe yours is already dead, and your version of this device didn't work. Maybe you've already dealt with this problem. Who Goddamn gives a shit anymore. I want it to end, and I want it to fucking end now. But I can't bring myself to open the door. Maybe my ranting on will help your world some how. Maybe. Just maybe.  
  
"The longer this goes on, the less I like it. Why can't they just get it over with. They have the power to just blast these damn doors down in less time than it took to erect the barricade. And it was a last minute barricade. Even the small ones do. The big ones, now they could just of blasted through those doors in a couple of seconds, and killed me in the process. It must be the small ones that are coming to kill me. Poetic irony, I suppose. I was never considered significant at school, and now I'll be killed by the less powerful. They're more powerful than me without Betty, of course. But they're less powerful than they could be. Than they would be given a little time.  
  
"This is really starting to get to me. They just won't go through those doors. I can still here the sound of them about to break it down, and they're getting there." He looks back towards the doors, then back to the camera. "Yeah. I can see sparks starting to come out of the doors now. It's almost over. I'm nearly dead. I'm nearly saved from torment. I hope you guys don't apply common sense to all this and decide that it could never happen. I hope that, as it's already happened. It already happened, and it could be happening right now in your world. We never got any warning. I hope that's 'cause no one had been invaded by them before, not 'cause this sort of machine doesn't work. It that's the case, what's the point. What's the point in me even trying to warn you, if you won't get the warning anyway? Eh, I've got no way of knowing that. No way of knowing. If that was the case, I'd have gone through all this suffering for nothing. I won't let my friends' and family's deaths be for nothing! There have been too many deaths for it to of been for nothing. Please.. Believe me on this one. You've got to. You've just got to.  
  
"They'll break through any minute now. I don't have much time, even less than earlier. They will be killed by anything really. A bringer needs something more. Explosive. A few bullets will do it, as long as they do explode on contact. There's a way of getting them in without them exploding. It's not easy, but it's possible. They'll be killed by a knife, I've seen someone manage it. It's just fucking difficult to get close enough. The big ones. Now they're difficult to kill. I've seen some of the more powerful big ones take over five thousand bullets. One I've seen take ten thousand explosive shells. But that one was special. It had a shield around it, they didn't actually hit it. I hope your world fares better than mine did. I hope it does.." There is a small explosion from the door. "And so it finally starts to end.  
  
"I'm relieved really. It's a good thing it's started to end. I've gone on too long like this. More than anyone should have done. No-one should live like this. No one at all." He looks towards the door, calmly, and turns back. "It's almost completely gone. Almost. I think I'm finally ready to do something I've been trying to bring myself to doing for a while." He gets out a Game-boy-colour, then unplugs a pokemon silver cartridge from it. He picks up Betty. Then puts her down again. "No. I'm not ready to do that just yet. Maybe I'll manage the deed before I die. Maybe when I do, everything will end. Maybe everything will return to normal. Maybe non of this will have happened. No. The best I can hope for is that by doing the deed they'd kill me, then disappear. If they disappear, but don't kill me, I'm unlucky. Maybe. Maybe this is all one hell of a nightmare. I wish I could believe that though. What kind of warped imagination would I have to have to dream this up. Actually, I severely doubt it would make any difference other than lifting a great burden off my soul. Yes. That's all I can hope for. I hope it happens. I so hope it works. This burden's been weighing me down for ages. Come on. Get through that door. I know your about ready to break it down. Just do it." He glances at the door. "Any second now.. Come on.  
  
"It." And with that, the door bursts open. A mercenary of Cyborgs don't come through, no ugly beast, no evil demon. All that comes through, is a small, yellow, rodent with red cheeks, and black peaked ears. It has a kinked tail, with a stripe of brown on. "I'm ready." The boy says to himself, as he picks up Betty, and smashes the cartridge. Then, as the Pikachu charges up a thunder attack, he thinks of something, and looks straight at the camera. "Pokemon aren't real. If they start to become real, stop them." And on that note, the Pikachu uses a thunder, shorting the screen to static. A few minutes pass. The TV returns to the episode, in time for the closing credits. Out of the corner of your eye you see a blue, swirly thing, but are too shocked by what you just saw to notice it. 


End file.
